F Paul Wilson - Sims 04 by Zero (v5.0)

Wouldn’t be
appropriate.
                 “Coffee, then?”
                 Ellis
shook his head. “I can’t stay long. As I told you, the reason I’m here is
because I didn’t want to discuss this over the phone. May I sit?”
                 “Of course.”
                 How
strange to acquiesce to a request for a seat from the owner of the house. Since
the purchase of real estate would be—to put it mildly—awkward for Zero, Ellis
Sinclair had bought the place for him years ago.
                 “I
gather this is fairly important then,” Zero said as they seated themselves,
Ellis on the couch, and Zero in the recliner.
                 A
vague anxiety had been nibbling at him since Ellis’s call late this afternoon.
What was too sensitive to discuss over an encrypted phone?
                 “More than fairly. In fact I was followed tonight—by Portero himself, I believe.”
                 “But
you lost him.” It was a statement. He knew Ellis would have aborted his visit
if he thought he was being followed.
                 “Yes.
Took a subway to Forest
Hills and rented a
car there.” He shifted in his chair. “But let me cut to the chase here: Someone
asked a very disturbing question at the stockholders’ meeting today.”
                 Zero
nodded. “You mean about ‘surge’?”
                 “Exactly. One of your people, I presume?”
                 “Yes.
Ms. Cadman. It was her idea. We heard the word from a man who tried to assault
her, and she thought that would be a way to see if it meant anything.”
                 “Just the word?” Ellis said, his eyebrows lifting. “That’s
all you have?”
                 Too much had been happening lately to allow Zero time to give Ellis
one of his irregular briefings, so he filled him in now on the invasion of Romy’s apartment, the Totuus , and
Palmer’s resultant aphasia.
                 “So
you have no idea what this Palmer fellow was referring to,” Ellis said.
                 “Not
yet. But we know it means something. And I figure you’re the man who can tell
us just what.”
                 Ellis
tapped his fingers on the armrest of the recliner. This went on for an
agonizing minute. Then, “No, I’m not.”
                 “What?”
Zero couldn’t hide his shock. “You’re a founder of SimGen !
This goes back to Manassas Ventures. They gave you start-up capital. You’ve got
to know!”
                 “I
do know,” Ellis said. “But I can’t tell you.”
                 “Another
thing you can’t tell me?” He could feel his blood rising. “When I found Kek you said you couldn’t tell me anything about him or
about what was going on in Idaho. ‘Too sensitive,’ you said. Now two men
attempt a chemical rape on the minds of Romy Cadman
and Patrick Sullivan; we ask one of them who sent him and he tells us ‘surge.’
You know who that is and won’t tell me? Why on earth not? ‘Too
sensitive’ again?”
                 “No,”
Ellis said, his gaze boring into Zero. “Too dangerous.”
                 “It’s
already dangerous.”
                 “But
you’ve sampled only a taste of what’s waiting for you if you push this
further.”
                 “You’re
telling me to back off?”
                 “I’m
begging you to back off.”
                 Zero
couldn’t believe what he was hearing. But the emotion in Ellis’s voice—fear,
desperation—were real.
                 “Isn’t
this what you set me up to do?”
                 “No,
it’s not. Your goal—our goal—is to turn the public against SimGen and the idea of sims as
laborers. Stop further cloning of sims —that was the goal, remember?”
                 “Of